


This was a terrible idea

by Amarantex



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Darcy Lewis, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes is smitten, Clint Barton & Darcy Lewis Friendship, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Darcy Lewis Feels, Darcy Lewis Is a Good Bro, Darcy Lewis is clueless, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Literal Sleeping Together, Minor Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Natasha Romanov meddles, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sharing a Bed, Sleeping Together, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve is super clueless, Tropes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-06-27 23:47:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15695847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amarantex/pseuds/Amarantex
Summary: Bucky Barnes did not know how to say no to Steve Rogers. That’s why he’s here, in a cabin in New Haven, trying to fake a relationship with Darcy Lewis in front of one of the most experienced spys of the century. This was a terrible idea.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SaffreeLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaffreeLove/gifts).



> SaffreeLove left a huge and most dedicated review on my fic Totally Worth It, so I decided to gift her a one-shot, and one of the suggestions for a fic she gave me was fake relationship/bed-sharing. 
> 
> Also, it's not as much a one-shot as it is a two-shot. Because all of a sudden this turned into a huge thing because I am incapable of writing short things, so here you go.
> 
> Anyway, I took the prompt, and RAN with it. It's the only thing I've been wanting to write on for the past month, as I'm currently knee-deep in unfinished job-applications. 
> 
> Part two should be up within a couple of weeks. Should be.

“Put down the gun,” Bucky growled as he held up the gun, finger on the trigger and ready to shoot.

“This is priceless, you know. The big, bad Winter Solider, afraid of a tweeny, weeny gwirl,” Darcy replied mockingly as she held her firearm tighter and pointed right at his crotch.

“Oh, I’m not afraid of you, doll,” he shot back.

“Prove it,” Darcy goaded.

So he did. When Bucky fired, he hit her right between the eyes with a cold stream of water. Darcy sputtered and dropped her water gun.

“WHY, I have _never!”_

The back of her hand was raised to her forehead as she swooned dramatically and laid down on the floor to pretend she was dying.

An amused Bucky raised an eyebrow as Darcy coughed and sputtered.

“Y’know, doll, if that had been a real gun, you would already have been dead by now.”

“ _Shhhh_ , I’m dying here.”

Clint slid into the room, his Super Soaker slung over his shoulder and resting on his back. When he saw Darcy on the floor, he swore.

“Darcy, _nooo._ We were _this close_ to winning,” he complained, looking like someone had just kicked his puppy.

Darcy rolled her eyes.

“Clint, show a little respect, you ass. I’m _dying_!”

Bucky grinned at the scene in front of him.

After Clint had made it to the common room, it didn’t take long for the rest of the Avengers to enter, one half congratulating Bucky for a game well-played and the other half sulking in disappointment over Darcy’s defeat, after they had been so close to victory.

12 - 3 to Team Old Men.

Yeah, Darcy was going to be sore about that for a while. Right until the next Thursday, where they had their weekly Super Soaker Slam, and she’d be insisting that ‘they were _definitely_ going to win this time against Team Retirement Home’.

Until then, she’d probably pout a bit about it and guilt herself into getting carried around by her own, personal super soldier transportation service: Bucky Barnes.

“These baked treats are quite extraordinary, my lady,” Thor announced loudly, as he took a bite of the congratulatory cookie, that Jane had sourly passed around to the winning team. 

That was _fucking it,_ Darcy decided. She did _not_ need to hear all about the cookies that _she_ had baked for the occasion, that she would not be getting any of.

Darcy waved her arms in the air to get Bucky’s attention. With an amused huff, he broke off his conversation with Steve to come kneel beside her.

“You need anythin’, doll?”

With a snooty look on her face, she delicately reached out a hand for him to take to pull her up.

“Noble steed, take me home.”

Bucky snorted before bending down to give her a piggyback ride back.

“Sure thing, Darce. Sure thing.”

They left the common room unnoticed by most. Except for Natasha Romanoff.

. . . . .

This was… unusual, Bucky decided, as he scooped up a generous amount of green beans to go with the heaping mountain of meatloaf already resting on his plate.

Sure, Saturday dinners with Steve were practically mandatory by now. If they didn’t see each other much throughout the week — which was more or less impossible with how Steve always hung around him, trailing after him like a little baby duckling after its momma — they’d catch up at Steve’s place every Saturday, eating a solid 30 pounds of food between the two of them.

Nothing new about that. What was, however, new about the scenario, was the added presence of Natalia Romanova. Natasha. Natalie. Or whatever she called herself these days.

Bucky had been shooting her questioning looks for the past twenty minutes, but while she had obviously noticed — Natalia is trained to notice — she had given him no sign she had seen it. That could mean only one thing: Natalia was on a mission.

Deciding to let it go for the moment, Bucky gave up trying to get a single eyebrow quirk out of Natasha Romanoff and drowned his potatoes in a murky river of gravy, when Steve decided to slam a massive paw onto his shoulder.

Had Bucky been anything less than a super soldier, he would certainly have dropped the massively piled plate on the floor. Luckily he was one, because or else he would have had to break a hand punching Steve in the kidneys for ruining his dinner. The fuckin’ idiot.

“I just want you to know, I’m really happy for you, Buck,” Steve announced happily.

Bucky’s brows furrowed in confusion as he absentmindedly steadied his overfilled plate in his hand.

Uh. What?

“What do you mean?” he asked warily.

Bucky was under no illusion about his general state of mind. As a formerly brainwashed assassin who had been under HYDRA-control for just about 70 years, he had PTSD, intimacy-issues and a sense of self-loathing that would put even Doctor Phil out of business from trying to remedy it.

There hadn’t been a whole lot of things happening lately that could warrant an ecstatic Steve Rogers. So what on fucking earth was going on?

Bucky shot a quick look at Natasha. Her face was carefully blank as it had been for the past half hour, which didn’t entirely convince him of her innocence. Actually, it did quite the opposite. After all, he had helped her refine her poker face a long time ago. And when Natalia Romanova is using her poker face, that usually spells trouble.

Steve plowed on, as always.

“You and Darcy. I mean, I was kind of skeptical at first. It’s kind of soon after…” he trailed off, before clearing his throat awkwardly. “…Anyway, you’ve been doing much better after you started seeing each other,” Steve finished looking like a proud father on his son’s first day of school.

Bucky’s eyes widened comically. He thought he’d seen and heard it all when he had been updated on the progress made in the past century (Bucky had been absolutely mesmerized by the footage of a _man_ stepping onto the _moon_ ). But this… This was… This was _…_

He almost choked on his own breath as he tried to answer.

“Me and Darcy?” Bucky croaked out incredulously.

_I wish._

Bucky looked towards Natasha who had finally decided on a facial expression. _Smugness._

_Wait a fuckin’ minute…_

Steve sighed.

“I know it’s none of my business, but she’s... she’s good for you, pal.”

Bucky sighed, as he massaged the crease between his brows. How was he getting out of this one?

“Look, Steve, we’re not-“

Bucky didn’t get very far before the female in the room intervened.

“Steve, ask him,” she ordered promptly, sending a dangerous look Bucky’s way.

He tried again.

“We’re _not-“_

“Nat and I are going on a weekend trip up in New Haven next week and we were wondering if you and Darcy wanted to come?”

Bucky looked to Natasha. With a single raised eyebrow she managed to communicate that he had better say yes or there would be _consequences._

Natasha had something invested in this. And looking at Steve, smiling like he’d just heard the best news in the history of ever, Bucky had a feeling she knew just what the Widow had invested in this.

So naturally, because he couldn’t stand to see that kicked puppy-look on Steve’s face (and because he didn't want to get murdered in his sleep by Natalia), Bucky agreed.

 _Fuck_.

. . . . .

They were halfway through Jurassic Park before Bucky finally gathered up the courage to ask her.

“Darcy?”

“Yes, Bulging Biceps?”

“I need a favor.”

“Sure thing, Bucky Bear.”

“You might wanna hear me out first before you start making any promises, doll.”

. . . . .

“This is a terrible idea,” Darcy noted cheerfully, as she took their shared suitcase from Bucky after he had plucked it out of the car.

Steve and Natasha were already inside the sizable cabin, checking to see if the heat was on. Since it belonged to Tony Stark, Bucky guessed it was probably heated all year round. Because what else do you do with your money if you’re a multi-billionaire?

Bucky turned back towards the car.

“I know.”

“Then why did you agree to it?”

Bucky pulled out a smaller overnight bag and faced her with an unimpressed look on his face.

“Right, because you didn’t want to disappoint _daddy_ ,” Darcy continued.

Bucky blew a sharp stream of air out of his nostrils in amusement.

He closed trunk of the car and leaned casually up against it.

“You know, I ought’a spank you for that sort of talk,” he teased and tapped her shoulder gently with his fist.

Darcy grinned mischievously as she leaned closer.

“Is that a promise?” she asked, waggling her brows.

“It’s not an empty threat, that’s for sure,” Bucky replied.

Darcy cackled all the way up the stairs to the cabin.

. . . . .

“So this is a thing that’s happening,” Darcy announced as she took note of the bed in the room they would be calling theirs for the weekend.

There was one bed. Because _of course_ there is only one bed. Like in any good fake-relationship, _there is only one bed._ After all, why would a loving, very much real couple need two beds? They wouldn’t. But right now, they did. They really freaking did.

Bucky looked like he was about to question her statement, when Natasha leaned against the doorframe behind them, and did it for him.

“What is?”

Darcy more or less jumped at the sound of the smooth assassin behind her. She turned around quickly and stared at Natasha. Her mouth didn’t seem to function for a second or two, until it seemed to work all too well.

“The _SEX_. All of it,” Darcy announced loudly, and promptly looked like she regretted every single decision in her life that had led her to this very moment.

Bucky’s eyes widened comically. Natasha snorted. It was the most elegant noise Darcy had ever heard in her entire life.

“Down, tiger,” Natasha joked with a wink before she pushed off the doorframe and disappeared back into the hallway.

Darcy kept her composure as she closed the door behind Nat. Just as the door clicked, Darcy buried her face into her hands and groaned loudly.

Bucky chuckled.

“The _sex,_ huh?”

Darcy groaned even louder.

“I’m so sorry, I freaked out.”

With a grin, Bucky threw himself onto the bed.

“It’s fine. You’ll have to be on _the sex_ noise duty tonight. I’ll rock the bed against the wall,” Bucky noted, amused.

Darcy made a face.

“Ugh, this was a terrible idea.”

“I know.”

. . . . .

“I was thinking we could go for a hike this afternoon,” Steve suggested, taking a bottle of  water from the fridge.

Darcy’s eyes widened and she immediately started sending threatening looks Bucky’s way,  complete with the index-finger-over-throat, I’m-going-to-murder-you-if-you-agree-to-this gesture that had Bucky grinning at her and readily agreeing to go hiking with the other  couple.

When Steve turned around, Darcy was pinching her lips together, trying to hide her displeasure at having to go _hiking_ with three enhanced individuals who were all bound to leave her in the dust as a panting, boob-sweaty, disgusting mess.

 _Not_ what she had planned for this weekend. Not that she actually had anything planned, but if she had _, that_ absolutely would _not_ have been it.

“Yes, what a delightful idea. I’m so glad you agreed to this, Bucky, without the input of your  loyal girlfriend, who you knew, without asking, would absolutely have agreed to go,” Darcy noted in a deadpan tone of voice that promised absolute hell when she could get him alone.

Steve looked between Bucky and Darcy, confused.

“Uh, did you not wan-“ he started before Darcy mercilessly cut him off.

“Nonsense, it’s a splendid idea. I’ll pack lunch,” she noted, sounding cheerfully fake as she stomped off towards the kitchen.

. . . . .

Darcy was lying on the bed when Bucky entered the room. With lightening speed she rolled onto her stomach and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“I should have known you were a sadist when you started talking about spanking.”

Bucky’s eyes trailed indiscreetly down her back to the swell of her butt. When his eyes finally made it back, she had one eyebrow cocked and a smug look on her face.

What? Like he hadn’t caught her looking every now and then.

“Have yet to hear you complainin’, doll,” he replied with a wink.

Immediately, the smug look was wiped off Darcy’s face.

“Buuck _yy_ , this is not _fair._ I’m trying to help you here and then you go and turn this relaxing _couple’s_ weekend into a death march up a rocky hill with Sergeant Winter Soldier, Captain Glutes For Days and Natasha Russian Barbie With Killer Thighs. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Bucky deflated a bit.

“‘m sorry, Darcy. Didn’t think, I guess,” he muttered while rubbing the back of his neck and refusing to meet her eyes.

Darcy sat back up and observed him with a steely gaze for a few seconds, like she might figure out what he was thinking by staring at him long enough.

“Why are you so hell-bent on convincing Steve that we’re in a relationship anyway?”

Bucky clenched and unclenched his jaw a few times, looking like he had difficulties finding the words to answer her question.

“It’s just…” he started, before cutting himself off. “Never mind, it’s dumb.”

Darcy snorted.

“Well, maybe. But tell me anyway.”

She patted the space on the bed beside her, and Bucky took the invitation to sit down. For a few minutes, all that could be heard in the room was the gentle inhale and exhale of their calm breathing. Darcy didn’t push. She just waited.

Bucky took a deep, shaky breath.

“I feel like this is the first time in a long time, that Steve has something to be proud of me for,” he whispered, sounding like he was close to tears.

Darcy felt like someone had just punched her in the stomach.

“ _Bucky,_ ” she breathed, incapable of producing a statement any louder than that.

Because _oh my fucking god, that is so sad._

Bucky let out a sharp laugh with no real humor in it before his face twisted into an expression of regret. He didn’t look at her.

“I know. It’s _stupid_. We’re not together. It’s fake. But every time I see Steve looking at us with that proud, stupid grin on his face, I feel like I might be more like the man he sees. The one he can be proud of.”

Darcy wanted to cry. Here she was, complaining about the fact that her ass would be sore in the morning from going on a hike, when all Bucky wanted was for someone to see the good in him.

Well, that settled it. There was no fucking way she was letting Steve leave this place without him thinking Bucky was in the best, most loving relationship ever. Not that he actually was, but _whatever_! Steve would be equal measures in awe and jealous of their perfect relationship by the time they left on Sunday afternoon. Darcy would make sure of that.

Bucky sighed.

“I guess I’ll go tell them,” he muttered dejectedly before he pushed himself off the bed.

Darcy almost fell off the bed in her eagerness to stop him.

“Whoah, there. Wait a minute! Where are you going?”

Bucky halted.

“I’m telling them the truth,” he responded, resigned.

Turning around, he took note of her flailing limbs with raised eyebrows.

“ _What_ are you doing?”

Darcy ignored his question.

“Now, why would you go and do a dumb thing like that?” she asked, as she righted herself on the bed.

Bucky stared at her with furrowed brows.

“Weren’t you just-?”

“Look, you want Papa Bear to be proud of you? We’ll make him the proudest bear in all of the woods, okay? All of the other Papa Bears out there will be so jealous of him, and be all like ‘there goes Steve, with his perfect little murder cub, who has a perfect girlfriend and a perfect relationship, and-,“ Darcy rambled before Bucky cut her off. 

“I have no idea what you just said.”

With a sigh, Darcy stood to face him.

“I’m just saying, I’m in. 3,000 percent.”

He held back a small smirk.

“I don’t think that’s how percentages work.”

Darcy stared at him through narrowed eyes as she pointed a finger at her.

“Shut up, you ungrateful butt clown,” she shot back.

Bucky allowed the smile to push through.

“Thank you.”

. . . . .

“This was a terrible idea,” Darcy panted as they reached a particularly steep area on the path.

They had been at it for about twenty minutes now. Which was approximately nineteen minutes and fifty seconds too long, if it were up to Darcy. She had already twisted her ankle two times by stepping on rocks where she didn’t think there would have been rocks. And yes, okay, _maybe_ she should have brought some better walking shoes. But _somebody_ hadn’t told her _anything_ about what to expect on this sorta-kinda-super-hero-y-couple’s-trip.

She was not bitter. Not even the slightest bit.

It seemed Bucky finally noticed her struggles. He turned around, his hands on his waist.

“You want me to carry you?” he asked teasingly.

Darcy paused and held up her index finger as she panted and tried to regain her breath.

Bucky chuckled.

“Fuck off, Marty McFly. Of _course_ I want you to carry me. What world are we living in, where you think I _don’t_ want those arms to carry me up a rocky hill?” Darcy asked, looking insulted.

With a shrug Bucky turned his back.

“Hop on up, then.”

. . . . .

When Steve looked over his shoulder to check if Bucky and Darcy were keeping up, he couldn’t _not_ smile. Bucky was kneeling, his back to her with a gentle smile on his face. As Darcy reached over Bucky’s shoulder with her arms to hold onto him, Bucky reached up to pat her hands before standing up with her on his back.

Darcy was grinning wildly at her fortune as she leaned down to peck Bucky’s cheek.

“Go on, my noble steed!” she announced dramatically, as she pointed forward to signal their path.

“Noble steed, huh? This the only ride I’m gettin’ today, doll?” Bucky teased.

“I don’t know. Is it?” Darcy flirted back.

With one hand, dug through Bucky’s dark hair, scratching the roots of his hair from the looks of it. His eyes closed momentarily. With a smirk, Bucky retaliated and bounced Darcy on his back under the pretense of hiking her legs further up in his arms. She squeaked before bursting out into laughter. She swatted at his arm with one hand, playfully, and Bucky grinned up at her, obviously enjoying the playful banter between them.

Steve turned away with a smile. He had seen Bucky struggle with interacting with everyone around him. The team, the scientists… _himself_. Steve knew how much it bothered Bucky that he was still careful around him. 

They didn’t talk like they used to, and everything felt stilted and awkward. Things weren’t normal between them, but what was _normal_ really, after everything they had been through?

So Steve was left to tip-toe around Bucky, hoping they would eventually work out their new normal and that everything would go back to how they had been. Steve didn’t _mean_ to tip-toe, he really didn’t. But it wasn’t easy not to worry. Somehow, all he could see when he looked into the eyes of Bucky Barnes, was the look of a man constantly anxious that he would wake up back in the clutches of HYDRA and that this was all a dream.

But here, with Darcy… All Steve saw was a blinding smile, and glimpses of the old Bucky. Of _his_ old Bucky.

Natasha was right. Darcy really was good for him.

. . . . .

Darcy was _exhausted._ After the _Steve-called-it-a-hike-but-it-was-really-a-death-march_ they had ordered in some Italian for dinner. She had swiped all of Bucky’s garlic bread and he had eaten half her plate of penne alla vodka.

It had been a solid trade, Darcy had thought. That garlic bread had been like fucking _crack._ But now, she was just fucking exhausted. So after an hour of customary small-talk, Darcy was ready to drop.

As soon as Bucky pushed the bedroom door open, Darcy face-planted onto the mattress. Her groan of pleasure was muffled by the pillow below her face. Bucky chuckled.

“How are you this tired?”

“ _Excuse you_ , in case you didn’t notice, I have been very active today.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow.

“You walked _maybe_ a mile and a half,” he pointed out.

Darcy lifted her head from the pillow to stare at him with indignation.

“It was more than that.”

Bucky raised his hands in surrender.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. It was definitely a mile and three quarters.”

Darcy gasped in fake outrage before she threw her pillow at him.

“You’re such a little shit!”

Bucky threw himself onto the mattress, bouncing them both.

“And you’re a tired little shit,” he replied, tapping her gently on the nose.

Like clockwork, Darcy yawned.

“I really am.”

“Go to sleep,” Bucky suggested with a soft smile.

Darcy’s eyes narrowed and she pointed a threatening index finger at him.

“Alright. But don’t go doing something dumb when I’m asleep.”

Bucky shot her an unimpressed look.

“Like what? Taking a look at your My Little Pony panties?”

That woke her up. Darcy gasped in outrage and shot up from her very comfortable position in the bed.

“How do you know about those?”

Bucky shrugged.

“I have my sources.”

Darcy flopped back onto the bed.

“I will murder Clint Barton,” she muttered. “Also, no.”

“No?” Bucky asked.

“No.”

Bucky regarded her for a second, trying to figure out what part of the conversation the ‘no’ was related to. It didn’t take long for him to give up.

“You’ve gotta help me out here, doll.”

“Don’t go doing something dumb, like going to sleep on the floor,”

All movement in Bucky’s body halted conspicuously. Oh, he had _so_ been planning on doing that!

_Called it!_

Bucky looked ready to argue.

“Darcy, I-,“ was all he managed before Darcy mercilessly cut him off.

“There is no innocence or modesty or whatever left in all of _this_ to preserve anyway, so don’t hurt your old-timey sensibilities trying to martyr you way through the literal most simple act in the entire world. Just _maybe_ don’t fondle my tits in my sleep, and we’re good. And like, okay, if there’s a _little_ fondling, I’d not be mad at it. That costs like, at least 40 cents and a footlong from that homeless guy in Green-Wood Cemetery, so really, we’d all be winning.”

Bucky looked a little out of it by the time Darcy had finished her speech. And after ten seconds of no response, Darcy took pity on the guy.

“I’m _joking._ No fondling. I mean, if that’s the thing you’re hung up on.”

“From a _homeless_ guy?”

“Hey, don’t insult Bob like that. He’s a professional!”

Bucky’s mouth opened and closed again. Only to repeat the action a few more times.

“I’m not-“

“Just agree with me, please?”

Bucky sighed.

“Fine.”

“Pinky swear on it!”

Pinkies were sworn, and Bucky Barnes remained in bed with Darcy Lewis.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Natasha is ready to break toes, Bucky basket weaves and boners are popped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it took a while longer than I thought it would. And it seems there might be a reason I'm so bad at this whole updating thing, as I found out recently I most likely have ADHD. It's like a never ending story trying to figure out this whole mental health thing.
> 
> So that's a thing I'll be trying to sort out as well. But now that I know, it's a bit easier to manage my scatterbrains, and I hope I'll be able to update more frequently after this. No promises. But lots of hope.
> 
> That said, I could not fit the rest of the fic into just one chapter. So you'll be getting another one after this. A smutty one. Ohohoho. Betcha you're looking forward to that, huh?
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

When Darcy woke, all she registered was warmth. She was barely awake, still balancing on the edge of sleep and all she wanted to do was tumble back into oblivion. But the sun was just starting to peek through the flowy, cream curtains and it didn’t take long for her to join the land of the living with great annoyance. 

Despite Bucky’s insistences that they would be better off with him sleeping on the floor, he sure had taken up his side of the bed. And quite a bit of hers as well. In fact, he’d made himself right at home up against her body. While they weren’t entirely chest to back, Bucky’s left arm was slung over Darcy’s waist and was tugged right up beneath her breasts, where her shirt had settled, leaving her stomach naked and her My Little Pony panties bared.

This was nice though, Darcy thought.

Right until she stretched her body languidly and settled more firmly against Bucky’s oven of a body behind her. Because just as firm as the chest behind her back, and his thigh between hers were, something _else_ definitely was as well.

And now it was poking her in the butt.

_Wuh-oh._

Darcy stilled completely. Christ. If she was being completely honest with herself, she had _definitely_ hoped to see Bucky Barnes below the waist one day. Might even have had a few dreams about it. But in those, he had been awake. And he hadn’t been mandatorily cuddling her. No, that had been _all_ of his own volition. 

She bit her lip.

What the _fuck_ was she going to do?

Okay, okay. No panicking. She just had to think this through, and she’d come up with a solution.

She could go back to sleep.

…Okay, very unlikely to happen with a super soldier super schlong right at her backdoor.

Get out of bed, perhaps.

…He’d definitely wake up and see what was going on.

…She could… take a peek?

 _NO!_ Bad Darcy!

She coooould… stay and pretend to be asleep.

…Not a bad idea. But he’d probably notice anyway.

Ugh…

She’d have to try to go back to sleep.

 _Fuck_.

Darcy slowly relaxed every part of her body and sunk back into the mattress. She laid back against Bucky for a few minutes with closed eyes as she attempted to go back to sleep. It took three whole minutes for her to give up.

This was torture. Actual torture. All she could think about was the man behind her. Of his body pressed up against all of the right places. His face was snuggled right up against her neck, and his slow exhales against her skin were doing absolutely _nothing_ to dampen the warm feeling pooling in her abdomen.

How the fuck was she getting turned on by this? _How_ the actual fuck?

Maybe she could just…

Darcy pushed her bottom back against Bucky gently. He exhaled heavily in his sleep.

_Oh my god, what the hell am I doing? Stop sexually assaulting the freaking guy!_

Christ. She obviously had no self-control around Bucky, so there was only one thing to do. She had to get out of there.

And she’d better do it fast, like pulling off a band aid, she decided. Or else she was going to be stuck there in bed with Bucky Barnes, trying to explain why she was fleeing from his massive erection.

Yeah, not going to happen.

Darcy pulled in a deep breath, then quickly shoved Bucky’s arm off her, launched herself out of bed and all but ran into the ensuite bathroom where she slammed the door behind her.

. . . . .

Bucky’s eyes opened slowly, as the door to the ensuite slammed shut.

“Wha-?” he grumbled, confused by Darcy’s sudden departure.

He looked to the side where she had been pressed up against him all night, and the only evidence of her having slept next to him were the rumbled sheets and discarded duvet.

Maybe she had to go to the bathroom, he thought as he turned onto his other side to catch a couple more minutes before they he had to get up and play house with power couple Romanogers.

As Bucky turned to drag his own discarded duvet off the floor — he was annoyingly used to sleeping in a cold room, and had a tendency to kick it off during the night — he noticed. What, you might ask.

_The thing._

Bucky stilled for a second before he groaned and fell back against his two piled-up pillows.

“Aw, fuck.”

Well, _that’d_ send her running for sure.

. . . . .

Darcy was out of the door before Bucky could even say a single word to her. Had he not been so frustrated, he would have been impressed with the speed of her power walking.

So he decided to take a shower before he went after her. Give her a bit of time to digest the fact that he had spent half of the night rubbing his dick up against her. To be honest, he needed a bit of time to digest that as well.

Ugh. 

Yeah. Today was definitely going to be _so much fun._

_. . . . ._

Darcy should have known this weekend wouldn’t be easy. Still, she had let the pleasant banter of the previous day sink into her bones and lull her into a false sense of security.

First _The_ _Popping of The Boner_ and now _this._ The incident, that shall henceforth be known as _The Second Popping of The Lady-Boner_ (Alternate title: _Natasha Romanoff, The Fucking Traitor)._

Bucky had entered the kitchen fifteen minutes after she had and Darcy had extended a cup of coffee to him the second he came in the door. They both recognized the coffee for the olive branch it was, and silently agreed not to acknowledge whatever had happened in bed that morning. Darcy was _beyond_ grateful that she didn’t have to explain her appalling behavior. Bucky was equally grateful.

They were all settled peacefully around the breakfast bar in the kitchen, eating their way through two dozen eggs, numerous packs of bacon and enough tomatoes to feed Darcy for a month, when Natasha decided to strike.

“You know, I’ve never actually seen the two of you kiss,” she pointed out.

The speared egg fell off Darcy’s fork as she froze, fork midair.

_Shitcrapfuck._

They really should have considered that Natasha, spy extraordinaire, would pick up on their non-relationship. They really should have.

Especially since Bucky was just as useless as Darcy was, when it came to being a convincing fake-partner. Instead of freezing, he just started stuffing more scrambled egg and bacon into his gaping maw, as he looked at Darcy with a pleading look.

_Please, please, please fix this._

Well, fuck.

Steve’s brows furrowed.

“We’re just very private people, _Natasha_ ,” Darcy commented forcefully through gritted teeth.

Natasha shot a look towards Steve’s confused face before she cocked an eyebrow smugly for a micro-second.

What the actual fuck. What was she playing at here?

“I see,” Nat responded with grace, taking a sip of her orange juice.

But the look on Steve’s face didn’t go away as he regarded Bucky and Darcy thoughtfully.

_Oh no._

. . . . .

Bucky had barely finished his breakfast before Darcy dragged him out of the kitchen and into the hallway right outside of her-… _their_ bedroom.

She shoved him against the wall, bodies pressed tightly together, and just as he was about to comment on her behavior, Darcy shoved a finger against his lips and shushed him.

Darcy waited for about three _excruciatingly_ long seconds, before her shoulders slumped in relief as the front door slammed behind Steve and Natasha as they went for a ‘walk’ (Darcy was 99.79 percent sure they were out doing something entirely _else_ al fresco).

She took one look at how close they were before she hurriedly stepped back. 

Bucky didn’t get a word in edgewise before Darcy announced whatever had been on her mind all the way through breakfast.

“We need to kiss.”

It took a second for Bucky to process what she had just said.

“What?” he questioned, his voice about an octave higher than usual.

“We. Need. To. Kiss.”

Bucky looked around, confused.

“Now?”

Darcy rolled her eyes at him.

“No, not _now_. Steve’s not buying what we’re selling here, so we need to _kiss_ ,” she insisted.

Bucky swallowed loudly and looked down the hallway before settling his gaze back on her.

“Uhm, alright.”

Darcy stared at him for a second. Two seconds. Three seconds.

“With an attitude like that, a girl’s gonna think there’s something wrong with her,” she muttered, sounding a bit insulted.

Bucky’s eyes bugged and his brain went into overdrive in an attempt to reassure Darcy. Because there was absolutely _nothing_ wrong with Darcy Lewis and her very kissable, pillowy lips. Nothing _at all_. And there was no way he was letting her think that she was anything but absolutely amazing.

“No! No no no! Nothing like that! It’s just…” Bucky trailed off.

“It’s just…?”

He sighed, massaging the crease between his brows that was growing to be permanent fixture on his face these days.

“I haven’t kissed anyone since the 40s.”

Darcy looked at him in disbelief for a few seconds as she attempted to digest the statement.

“You _WHAT_?”

“ _Ssshhhh_!”

“Are you for real?” Darcy asked, almost hysterically.

She looked like she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“Yeah, why?”

Darcy snorted.

“Well, considering you’re the hottest thing since _the surface of the sun,_ I guess I just figured you’d have found someone to plant one on.”

Bucky had never been one to blush. That had always been Steve’s thing. But somehow _this,_ out of every single comment that had ever been made about him… This was the thing that made him look like he had just submerged his entire face into a tub of boiling water.

Bucky cleared his throat.

“I don’t know how to respond to that.”

With a ‘hmm’ Darcy observed him. When she pursed her lips and nodded to herself, he got the feeling that he should probably be even the slightest bit worried about what the dame in front of him had planned.

He really should be.

…He wasn’t.

“We’ll need practice then,” Darcy decided.

The blush travelled from Bucky’s face to encompass his ears as well.

“Practice?” he croaked out.

“Well, since one of us hasn’t kissed anyone since _the last millennium_ , I figure we might need a bit of practice. You know, to make it look real.”

“Real,” Bucky stated, swallowing loudly.

“Yes, _real._ Come ‘ere.”

Darcy pulled him in by his collar, and in his startled state of mind, Bucky let her. Their lips met clumsily at first, but after a second when Bucky was shaken out of his stupor, he softened his lips and kissed her back.

Oh _god_ , it was good.

Her lips moved softly against his in a dance older than time. Bucky drew in a shaky breath through his nose as Darcy stepped closer, crowding him up against the wall of the hallway. Tentatively, he allowed his metal hand to rest on her hip to draw her closer while his other hand shifted up to sift through her soft, dark hair.

A tingly feeling tickled in Bucky’s stomach. It brought him back to riding The Cyclone on Coney Island, only this time, the rush didn’t come from being shot through the air in a cart on what was essentially a rickety wooden scaffolding. It came from the lady right in front of him, kissing him like he’d never been kissed before. Not from what he remembered, anyway.

Her tongue licked across his lips gently, asking for entrance. Bucky opened up to her, and she quickly took the lead, like she did with everything. Bucky groaned as she pushed even closer, her chest meeting his.

It was almost too much, the feeling of her hands roaming his shoulders, his chest, his neck, until it wasn’t, and their lips gently disconnected.

Bucky opened his eyes that he didn’t realize he had closed, and looked down at Darcy. She looked like he felt: completely debauched.

They spent a few seconds just taking each other in. Bucky’s hands were still around Darcy’s waist and her hands hadn’t moved from their place on his chest. He wondered if she could feel the way his heart thundered under her touch.

“There,” Darcy croaked out, breaking the silence. “Real.”

Darcy looked comically like a deer stuck in headlights. Her eyes were as wide as he’d ever seen them, her beautiful waves were ruffled and she was doing her best to focus on anything else but him.

“Real,” Bucky agreed with a voice that sounded like he hadn’t gone into puberty yet.

Darcy finally disentangled herself from him as she took a step back. She swallowed loudly.

“Real,” she repeated and nodded her head while she casually attempted to walk backwards away from him down the hallway.

He wasn’t the only one affected by this, he realized as Darcy refused to look at him, while she all but moon-walked away from him.

The realization made the tingles in his belly multiply by ten.

Bucky observed her with great amusement as she gathered her arms behind her back and suddenly found the walls very interesting. She didn’t stop until she was at the door leading into the living room.

“It’s been solid,” Darcy announced before she waved awkwardly. “See you at lunch,” she finished and all but ran through the door.

Bucky let out a deep breath as he fell back against the wall.

Oh yeah, he was _definitely_ in love with Darcy Lewis.

…And this was _definitely_ his second erection today. Great.

. . . . .

“Ladies,” Natasha greeted all three of them as she entered the room with a whole basket full of supplies and a huge pile of long branches.

Steve and Natasha had made it back a few hours ago — predictably sex-ruffled — and had managed to corral both Bucky and Darcy into the living room for ‘fun couple shenanigans’. In Darcy’s vocabulary, that meant a foursome. But somehow she doubted that was to happen, judging from the stack of branches in Natasha’s arms.

Unless they were into some _real_ freaky stuff.

Darcy didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.

It seemed that Darcy wasn’t the only confused person in the group.

“ _What_ is that?” Steve asked, as he carefully observed the pile of scissors, knives, side cutters, pliers and _fucking branches_ that Natasha was putting down on the coffee table.

“Basket weaving.”

Everyone but Natasha looked confused.

“Even super-soldiers could do with practicing their fine motor-skills,” Nat added smugly. She paused for a second before amending the sentence: “ _Especially_ super-soldiers.”

Steve grimaced.

“Is this revenge for that parachute-thing?”

Natasha shot him a _look._

“No. It’s for the _no_ parachute-thing.”

She picked up the pliers.

“Also, Stark won’t stop complaining about mangled cutlery, and if I have to listen to that _once_ more, I might have to start breaking someone’s toes for stress-relief,” Natasha commented darkly before clamping the pliers together a few times in warning.

Bucky and Darcy exchanged glances.

Steve looked like he deeply regretted ever asking.

“Right, well, let’s weave some baskets, then!”

. . . . .

Twenty-three broken branches later, Darcy was ready to give up trying to help Bucky weave a basket.

Either Natasha was right and the boys _really_ did not know how to handle their own strength, or they were doing it on purpose. 

Knowing them, it could be either, really.

But Natasha was not going to let them out of there until at least _one_ of them produced something that could remotely pass as a basket. So Darcy shooed Bucky’s hands away and tried to do it herself.

“ _Stop that,_ you’re not helping. We’ll never get out of here if we don’t humor Nat.”

Bucky shrugged.

“I could find a way to get us out of here.”

Darcy looked at Bucky skeptically.

“Without any of our toes being broken by Natasha?”

Bucky looked like he was thinking very hard. Darcy guessed he’d have to to outsmart Natasha Romanoff.

“I might have to sacrifice a toe or two,” he muttered solemnly.

Natasha rolled her eyes at their antics on the other side of the coffee table, where she was perched on an ottoman.

“Stop being dramatic, Barnes. This is not that bad.”

“You try weaving baskets with a metal hand,” he answered, deadpan.

Darcy snorted. Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“My condolences, Darcy. I wasn’t aware your boyfriend is that bad with his fingers.”

Darcy had to bite her lip not to burst out into manical cackling. Bucky looked insulted. Then he zeroed in on the pitiful attempt at a basket Darcy held in her hands.

“Gimme that,” he grumbled, taking the branches from her before he got to work, painstakingly folding the branches.

Darcy sent Natasha an impressed look.

_You are_ **_good_ ** _._

Nat raised her eyebrows smugly.

_I know._

. . . . .

“Such elegance,” Darcy cooed teasingly twenty minutes later as Bucky handed her a surprisingly beautifully made basket.

“Shut up.”

“No, really. It’s impressive. I had no idea branches could bend that way. You’ll have to do my hair one day.”

Bucky groaned.

“Really, shut up.”

Darcy laughed.

“Bucky, I’m kidding. It’s beautiful, thank you.”

They locked eyes, Bucky a bit flustered.

Darcy was struck by a realization. This was it. She should kiss him. It was the perfect time, really. Steve was clearly ignoring the mangled branches in his hand in favor of watching her coo over Bucky’s impressive piece of basket weaving _art._ This was _it._

So Darcy took a shaky, deep breath, stood on her tip-toes and gave Bucky a peck on the lips. Steve looked away quickly.

 _Well, that was anti-climatic_ , Darcy thought with disappointment as she allowed her heels to rest back on the wooden floor.

Bucky cleared his throat before turning to Natasha.

“Can we go now?”

Natasha’s eyes darted between Bucky and Darcy, looking for _something._ And finding it apparently, as she just sent a quick nod towards Bucky before she sat down beside Steve, pointing at where the next branch had to go.

Bucky barely waited for her approval before he shot out of there. Seconds later, the front door slammed loudly.

Darcy shared a glance with Natasha.

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. What are your thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> Lemme know what you think!


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